


A Distant Home

by Rosage



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, First Dates, Julian route endgame, Sibling wingmen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: Portia and Nadia try to plan their first date from across the ocean.





	A Distant Home

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Phrenotobe for the help.

Portia slumps over the railing with her chin in her arms. This isn’t the first time she’s watched her world shrink into a speck, one hair on a cat’s belly, but last time that world was Nevivon. Now, they’re returning, and she’s floating in the space in between.

Ilya joins her. To her annoyance, he’s tall enough to lean casually on the railing. “You’re supposed to look away from the shore once it’s gone, you know,” he says.

“If I want sailing advice, I’ll ask Mazelinka.”

“Of course, she _is_ the captain.” He gives an exaggerated salute in Mazelinka’s direction. Becoming serious, he turns back to Portia. “Having any seasickness? Second thoughts?”

“No way! I’ve always wanted to sail the seas without having to chase your ass down.” Her last adventure was a desperate race. Finally, the world stretches at her family’s leisure.

When his expression turns sly, she should know what’s coming. “As long as a certain someone isn’t left waiting too long, hm?”

She elbows him. “I can’t make Mazelinka turn around just for my date.”

Her date. Her _date_ , with Nadia, of all people. Warmth bubbles in her chest like a frothy wave.

“So? Have you thought about where you’ll go?” Ilya asks.

“Where I’ll go when?”

“On your date, of course. Nadia can afford to take you anywhere.”

“I’m not taking advantage of her! I… I thought she might like to visit the animal rescue. Is that stupid, since I run the place? I just don’t know if the Rowdy Raven would impress her.”

Despite his insistence that it’ll go great, Ilya doesn’t help with his own pile of suggestions, all of which they both veto. His secondhand nerves saturate the already salty air, making her thoughts spiral. What if she picks wrong? What if Nadia never wants a second date?

What if she’s already changed her mind?  

Portia switches subjects before she can get sick from something besides the rocking ship.

* * *

A crisp breeze helps Nadia and Nazali along on their walk through the garden, its jasmine scent making Nadia nostalgic. Until recently, she wouldn’t have guessed she’d rely on her family to relax. Then again, until recently, the only one she could rely on was Portia.  

“Don’t worry, the cats from the coliseum are adjusting fine,” Nazali says. “Besides, they’re no rowdier than Ilya in his apprentice days.”

The skin around Nazali’s eyes crinkle as they go on to discuss the elephant in their care. They’re somehow watching both Portia’s animal rescue and Julian’s clinic. It doesn’t leave them with much time at the palace, but Nadia has to admit, the company is welcome.  

She lingers by a sweet pea plant. “Portia has always loved these gardens. Perhaps I can have them renovated before she returns,” she says. “Then again, perhaps she would prefer to avoid her former place of work.” The last thing she wants is for Portia to recall being her handmaiden. Otherwise, Nadia would not have resisted asking her on a date weeks before her trip, with those memories fresh. Now, further weeks separate them.

“Perhaps don’t call the renovation team in just yet, then, hm? Portia would hate for you to put in so much work for nothing.”

Nadia tears herself away from the sweet pea. “That’s right, it is only a first date. I don’t mean to put pressure on her.”

Nazali pats her shoulder. “She used to croon at your bedside. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Meaning to continue their walk, Nadia stops short. “Excuse me, are you saying she _sang_?”

“I might have fed her a tale about reverse lullabies. Really, I just thought it would help her relax.”

Of course. It’s little wonder that Nazali didn’t hand Portia love poetry for reading practice, or convince her to juggle.

No doubt catching her exasperation, Nazali continues, “Do I need to give you the same prescription?”

“I shall save my voice for speaking, if it’s all the same.”

Her thoughts turn to her upcoming meetings. After all, the Vesuvia Portia returns to must be better than the one she left, or Nadia has already failed her.

* * *

Portia shreds the parchment into a shower of snow, which Pepi bats at as it flutters to the floor. That attempt had been heart-achingly honest. Her first was too formal, the next too casual. Instead of reaching for yet another blank sheet, she carefully unrolls Nadia’s letter of even, looping script.

_My dear Portia_. The salutation still makes Portia grip the parchment. She smoothes out its creases again and reads Nadia’s polite inquiries about her family, summary of recent events at the palace ( _nothing for you to concern yourself with, while on vacation_ ), and brief, eloquent wish to see Portia again. And then there’s the postscript: _I have attached a list of possible date locations. Inform me if any of them suit your fancy, and I shall make the necessary preparations._

The effort Nadia is putting into this makes Portia fondly exasperated, but her stomach flops when she remembers it’s all for _her_. Though she’s vetoed anything that requires Nadia to work, she’s studied each item, daydreaming about twirling her around a ball or taking her to the theater.  

Her own fantasies have been sillier. Showing Nadia the tree she climbed as a kid, when she pretended she perched in a crow nest, spying on enemy pirates. Curling up in front of the fire for Mazelinka’s stories of her own conquests. Relaxing in the salt baths together, her hands combing through Nadia’s hair while Nadia sighs in contentment.

Her cheeks heat. This isn’t the way to court a countess. Before she can reread the list, a knock loud enough to be Ilya interrupts. He strolls in without his eye patch. “Saw the candlelight under your door. Rather late for work, isn’t it?” he asks, and tries to peek over her shoulder.

“Like you’re one to talk.” She plants a hand over his face. He plops down on the floor and pulls Pepi into his lap, to her audible satisfaction. Seeing them relax together makes Portia settle enough to put the list aside.  

“As much as I hate to rush your love letters, the courier’s sailing out in the morning,” he says. Portia returns to fiddling with the pages.

“This is just a friendly update.”

Gasping, Ilya presses his hand to his heart. “You’re not telling her about how you long to see her again? To return to her tender embrace? To—”

“What embrace? I haven’t even taken her on a date yet!”

“Her letter smelled so nicely of lavender, I just assumed—”

“Why are you smelling my mail? Go to bed!”

Pepi peeps when he sets her gently aside. On his way out, he ruffles Portia’s hair. “You, too.”

For once, she thinks he’ll have better luck.

* * *

Nazali is one of the few opponents who can catch Nadia off guard. Nadia fiddles with her cat-shaped chess piece, failing to foresee Nazali’s next move. A butterfly hovers by their table on the veranda, its orange wings further distracting her.

“Are you certain no ships have come into port today?” Nadia asks.

“If they did, we’d have some eager visitors. Don’t worry. In my experience, the wind doesn’t care if you have a hot date.”

Screeching winds have ripped through Nadia’s dreams of late. Her mages promise it’s no prophecy, but she can’t help losing sleep. “Do you think they’ve run into trouble?”

“Always a possibility, but I’m sure that crew can weather it.”

“Of course. How silly of me to worry. Portia’s strength of will alone could fend off a storm.”

It makes her recall the end to Portia’s letter, which she’s memorized in recent evenings:

_As for our date, I have a few ideas, too, so let’s decide when I get back. No planting another garden or anything before then! I asked you first, so you should definitely leave everything to me!_

While it earned a chuckle, Nadia doesn’t intend to give in so easily. Portia has already worked too hard on her behalf. She is right, however, that it will have to wait until her return.

Nadia places her cat piece forward with care.

* * *

Portia’s white knuckles clench the railing as Vesuvia comes into view. She would reread Nadia’s letter if she weren’t afraid of dropping it into the sea. Her heart leaps overboard when she spies Nadia on the dock, dressed to be incognito, although Portia would recognize her straight back anywhere. Portia practically runs in place while Mazelinka lowers the anchor.

At her first chance, she sprints down the docks and into Nadia’s arms, where she’s picked up and spun, laughing through tears. It’s like flying, if flying could make her safe and supported.

When Nadia sets her down, she feels like she’s spinning in place. Nadia holds her steady. “Shall we get your land legs back?”

Portia nods. If she barfs all over Nadia now, she might as well head back out to sea.

With a goodbye to the others, they wander arm-in-arm down the canals, winding in no particular direction. Conversation flows freely, with too many things to catch up on for Portia to track with Nadia beside her, warm and solid and _home_.

“And then this giant whale leapt out of the ocean, spraying water all over the deck! It must have been as big as the ship. Imagine if I could ride one,” Portia says.

“I have no doubt you’d be queen of the sea. Though, you might want to get the hang of horses first.”

Portia puts a hand on her hip. “I’m working on it!”

The marketplace comes into view. Wrapped up in her company, she almost runs into shoppers. Nadia places a hand at the small of Portia’s back, making it hard to regret her clumsiness.

No longer queasy, Portia salivates at the smell of pumpkin bread, which Nadia buys. Portia is licking her fingers when they return to the docks.

By now, it’s quiet except for squawking gulls and lapping waves, and the sun bleeds into the horizon. Portia rests her head against Nadia’s shoulder. In the past, such a casual touch would have been unthinkable, as would the peace that’s settled in her chest. She doesn’t even mind the water that, just that morning, she announced she never wanted to see again.

She tilts her head to look at Nadia, and her heart whips into a storm when she finds Nadia looking back, her gaze close and full of wonder. It drops to Portia’s lips. Her hand slides over Portia’s without clasping it, like she wants to give Portia a chance to slip away.

Portia closes the gap with a gentle press of her lips, just enough to give permission and send lightning through her skin. The shock breaks the spell. Their arms and knees jostle to wrap around each other, mouths probing as they try to make up for an ocean of distance. Holding each other close, they fall to their sides on the wooden slats, kissing as if their skin has bottled the setting sun’s warmth.

Portia separates with a gasp. Only a handful of hours after returning, and she’s wriggling like a beached eel on the docks—with _Nadia_ , of all people.

“Nadia, I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t you dare apologize for the best minute of my month,” Nadia says, her voice low and breathy. She untangles her hand from Portia’s curls to smooth them. “Unless you’d like to stop?”

“Well, no, but—maybe not right here? We’re going to roll into the bay!” Portia’s own voice squeaks, to her chagrin. With a chuckle, Nadia rights them both and continues to fix Portia’s hair and clothes.  

“I suppose we did get carried away,” Nadia says. When she begins to fuss with her own mussed hair, Portia returns the favor.

“You could say we almost went overboard.” Portia’s laugh rings false. Her lips tingle too hard for her to be mortified—until something occurs to her. “Oh my god, this was our date!”

That seems to startle Nadia, too. “It was, wasn’t it? I’ve been in a daze all day. After my letter, I came up with even more proposals.”

“Me, too. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Though really, she couldn’t stop thinking about Nadia, whether wondering how she was doing or wishing she could join Portia on the salt flats. After all that, she droops at the idea that she wasted her chance. “I wanted to make things perfect for you.”

Twilight settles in around them. Nadia lifts Portia’s chin. “This is perfect, dear Portia. Besides, a list of unused date plans? Whatever shall we do?”

“I have a few ideas.” As she leans in for another kiss, she halts. “So, you still want this?”

“That was never in question,” Nadia says.

This time, she closes the distance.


End file.
